Tearing Open Old Wounds
by TheSilverHunt3r
Summary: A representative of the Special Abilities Department was sent to talk with Fukuzawa. Unfortunately, Ango ran into Dazai on his way out.


Summary: A representative of the Special Abilities Department was sent to talk with Fukuzawa. Unfortunately, Ango ran into Dazai on his way out.

"Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend. Somewhere along in the bitterness. I would have stayed up with you all night. If I had known how to save a life."

\--How to Save a Life, by The Fray

Sakaguchi Ango tugged on his black tie. It felt too constricting, as if was a slowly tightening noose. Giving up, he frowned and untied the knot. Ango quickly retied it-looser of course-and smoothed his tie out.As the representative for the Special Abilities Department, he had been sent to talk over a few things with President Fukuzawa of the Armed Detective Agency. It concerned several of the recent catastrophes in Yokohama.

The car slowed to a stop in front of the brick building that contained the Armed Detective Agency's office. He opened the passenger car door and exited.

The sidewalk was empty of pedestrians at the movement, although he could see through the curtained windows that the cafe on the first floor of the building was lively.

His briefcase bumped against his leg as he opened the door. Ango walked down the hall, passed the cafe, and entered the elevator. About forty seconds later, he arrived at the fourth floor.

He approached the brown wood door near the end of the hall. Ango took a brief moment to admire the beautiful colored glass mural in the door. He opened it and stepped inside. Angoexchanged brief greetings with a few of the detectives, then headed straight to Fukuzawa's office. He valued being punctual, and besides, Ango didn't really care for gossip or small talk.

XXX

A sleepy Dazai was dragged into the office by Kunikida. He whined the whole way that he didn't want to work.

Kunikida shoved Dazai into his chair. "Well, tough luck you maniac. You have to work today, Dazai," he irritatably declared. His job of wrangling his partner done, Kunikida left to grab something from the printer.

Dazai pouted. He put his arms and head on his desk, trying to slip in a few seconds of shuteye before his partner came back.

However, Dazai's timid colleague interrupted. "You look tired, Dazai-san. Did you get enough sleep?" Atsushi asked.

Dazai grinned and propped his chin on his forearms. "Of course I got enough sleep," he cheerfully affirmed.His aura dropped back to gloomy. "And I want more," Dazai briefly bemoaned. For a moment, his smile dropped and he narrowed his eyes. "But I really don't want to be here...for some reason I have a feeling something bad is going to happen today."

Atsushi stiffened. "Some..something..something bad?" He stuttered. "How bad?"

Dazai shrugged dramatically. "Hmm, I don't know," he drawled. "All I know is it's something bad."

"Stop wasting time, you suicidal maniac!" Kunikida bellowed as he walked into the room and spotted his partner.

Dazai was proven correct in under an hour.

XXX

Ango shook Fukuzawa's hand and traded some general pleasantries before he left the President's office. Fortunately, the meeting had gone very well. He walked through the small hallway and entered the general office of the Armed Detective Agency.

Curious about the flicker of movement in his peripheral vision, Dazai glanced over at the person leaving Fukuzawa's office.Ango's and Dazai's gazes inescapably connected. The temperature of the room seemed to drop several degrees. Ango stiffened. His fingers curled further around the handle of his briefcase.

Dazai's eyes went cold. "And something like this is exactly why I didn't want to go to work today, Kunikida," his tone had an obvious duality to it. Joking and serious at the same time.

"How have you been Dazai-san?" Ango's calm question shattered the silence that had fallen.

Dazai stood up. He strolled over to Ango, a plastic grin still glued to his face. "I've been doing well, Ango-kun," he brightly answered. "How about you?"

"Good," Ango neutrally replied. "Have," he paused, rethinking his words, "Have you been visiting him?"

"Yes, I have. Have you?" Dazai happily returned, the undercurrent of vitriol barely visible. He stuck his hands in his trenchcoat pockets.

"Occasionally. Work has been rather busy with Chief Taneda's death," Ango admitted.

"Ah, yes. It is good to keep your priorities straight. Work is very important," Dazai sweetly declared.

The double meaning and the jab of those words were rather clear to Ango. His eyes narrowed.

"Are you implying anything?"

Dazai innocently looked at Ango. "What? Oh, I'm sorry, Ango-kun. Did I touch a nerve on accident?"

The frown on Ango's face darkened."Both of us lost a friend that day. But you were one fine with losing a second one that day as well," he quietly snapped.

Dazai recoiled, taking a step back with surprise on his face. Inside of his trench coat pockets, his hands clenched into fists.

"Good day, detectives," Ango calmly declared. The restrained anger was easy to see in his furrowed eyebrows and deep frown. He quickly headed to the office door. He paused and glanced backwards before he left.

It took a few more moments for Dazai to break out of his shock. He snarled something under his breath. He stormed over to the windows and stared out of them.

His coworkers glanced furtively at him every few seconds. They were all concerned. They had never seen Dazai or Ango like this. The prevalent bitterness and suppressed anger. The glacier in Dazai's eyes that had been obscured by layers of fog. The brief look of despair in Ango's eyes before he left.

They didn't know what had happened between the two aside from that it had to do with the death of a friend. Nor did they know how to help Dazai. But the detectives looked at Dazai's back, the tensed shoulders, and the dark scowl reflected in the window. They saw a friend in need, and a bomb that could explode at any second.

Dazai's phone buzzed and his coworkers jumped at the unexpected sound. He pulled it out and typed in his password. Somewhat distracted from his thoughts, the ice in his eyes melted slightly. He smirked but didn't reply to the text message he had received. He moved his head slightly.

His phone rang and everyone glanced at him. His coworkers couldn't see his face in the reflection of the window anymore, thwarted by the sudden movement of a cloud. He frowned indecisively at the contact name. The attempted call ended. Dazaigave a small huff of relief, he didn't really want to talk to anyone right now.

Then his phone rang again, he looked at it, the same person had called him. Resigned to picking up the call, his features soured into a pout as he swiftly passed through the office to get to the hallway outside.

His coworkers watched him leave, reassurances and questions stuck in their throats.

XXX

The hallway was tiled and empty. Dazai leaned against the cream wallpaper. He kept glancing between the elevator and stairs. Guided by instinct, he pressed the Accept button.

"Dazai, did you steal my wine again?" Chuuya immediately interrogated. He tone was a mix of exasperated and annoyed.

Dazai forced some cheer into his voice and responded, "Nope, I didn't."

Unfortunately for Dazai, Chuuya noticed something was off immediately. He had three years worth of knowledge about how Dazai tried to cover up his depression on the bad days. "Dazai, is something wrong?" He asked.

Chuuya was always blunt. So honest about his thoughts and feelings. Loyal to a fault. Yet he wasn't oblivious nor an idiot. That's what made him a sort of...oasis, amidst the mind games between Mori and Dazai. Chuuya had no want to play.

Dazai decided to drop the facade of happiness. "Ango was sent as a representative for the Special Abilities Department. We bumped into each other." Dazai paused. "It...didn't go well."

"Why?"

Dazai stayed silent.

The seconds streched out until Chuuya harshly declared, "You're an idiot."

Dazai's grip on his cellphone tightened. His knuckles went white. He took a breath and attempted to counter, "You don't know what-"

Chuuya interrupted, "I've read the files on Ango, Mimic, and Oda. I'm an Executive, so I have clearance. H*l, I even took a look at Boss's personal acount of events to figure out what went down while I was gone."

"Oh? Does he know?" Dazai asked with interest. His eyes gained a calculating glint. Dazai could almost see Chuuya rolling his eyes.

"Well, if he does, he's never brought it up over the past four years. So I'd assume I'm in the clear," Chuuya snarked.

Dazai smirked. "Who knows? Doesn't Mori often keep quiet while planning? Perhaps he's going to declare you a traitor sometime. It wouldn't be too hard with that gem of knowledge," he mused.

"You're trying to distract me, Mackerel," Chuuya irritably countered. "This is all besides the point. Ango isn't responsible for Mimic or Mori. He's not responsible for Oda's death."

"But-"

"No," Chuuya almost growled.

Dazai scowled, his mind full of thoughts and arguments about that particular statement. He ignored them for the moment. "Ango was also a spy," he stated. "A triple agent even. And no one figured it out aside from Mori."

"So that's your problem?" Chuuya scoffed. "That he was a traitor? You do realize you are both Port Mafia traitors."

Dazai frowned. "That's..." He trailed off. That wasn't it.

"You're the only one getting in your way," Chuuya curtly stated. "Fine. You know what? You're a stubborn a*e. I doubt I'll get through to you about how dumb you're being by arguing with you. And I doubt I'll be able to guess half of the twisted weird a*s ideas that pass through your skull.

"So, I'll just ask you a question. Would Oda have wanted this?"

Several answers lined themselves up in Dazai's head: Yes. No. Maybe. "I..."

Chuuya sighed. "Just think about it, waste of bandages."

"...Alright," Dazai hesitantly agreed. The dark scowl on face had lessened to a slight frown.

"Do you want to talk about something else?" Chuuya awkwardly offered. He was undoubtedly fidgeting with something, most likely a pencil or coin.

Dazai blinked in surprise. That was new. "Sure."

XXX

Atsushi kept an eye on the clock. He nervously checked it, counting how much time had passed since Dazai left.

Kunikida used his watch. Constantly pulling up up his sleeve to see the time took up several minutes of his time. It distracted him from the report he was writing on the most recent case he had been on, but he found he couldn't stop.

Ranpo sat by the windows as usual. But instead of happily eating candy, he had been slowly licking a large lolipop for the past hour and a half. His gaze was glued to the wall across from him, contemplative. Unlike most of his colleagues, his expression was blank.

Nearby him, Yosano was seated at a desk and going through her medical bag. Although medical wasn't the thought one would have at the sight of the contents. An array of sharp scapels, serrated kitchen knives, and large cleavers. She had pulled out some sharpening stones and started sharpening them. Her usual maniacal smile that occurred when she handled her tools was not present.

Tachihara kept fidgeting with his pencil. His frown was troubled as he set up an appointment for a client.

The clerks kept quiet as they filed paper. Their usual chatter was completely absent.

Work and noise in the office had slowed to a crawl. The rustle of paper, the tap of a pencil on a desk, and the shick of metal on stone.

The door hinges didn't creak. But the tap of dress shoes on tile was clearly heard. The detectives's looked at the door, hoping to see their coworker and not another client.

Dazai's usual grin was back. One that seemed slightly more fragile than usual yet not forced as it had during his conversation with Ango.

"Umm, Dazai-san, are you okay?" Atsushi carefully questioned.

Another set of footsteps started towards the office from the hallway opposite the entrance. Instead of the tap of dress shoes, the soft clack of sandals was heard. Everyone who was sitting down immediately jumped to their feet as Fukuzawa entered the room. He swept his gaze around the Agency's office. "Things have been more quiet than usual," he stated. "Did something happen?" His employee's eyes immediately turned to Dazai.

"I may have had a brief tiff with the Special Abilities Department representative," Dazai cheerfully admitted.

"I see," Fukuzawa acknowledged. His voice was soft yet clearly carried through the large room. He scrutinised his employee for several seconds, Dazai shifted slightly. "Is everything alright, Dazai?"

Dazai's grin flickered for a split second. It was a light bulb that threatened to go dark, it had almost run out of the ability to keep glowing. The smile steadied and Fukuzawa wasn't completely sure whether he had imagined it.

"Eh? Of course," Dazai chirped.

Fukuzawa's gaze was heavy as he stared at Dazai. He reached out a hand and very briefly ruffled Dazai's hair. Then shifted his hand to Dazai's shoulder.

Dazai stilled, but he didn't tense up. The weight was a comfortable pressure, if unusual.

"If you need someone to talk to, my door is always open for you," Fukuzawa quietly offered. He kept his hand on Dazai's shoulder until the younger man agreed with a bright, "Okay, President."

Fukuzawa swept his gaze around the room once more, gave a reassuring look to the rest of his employees, and left. There was nothing more he could do at this time.

Dazai strolled back to his desk and sat down. He went on with his day as usual. And ignored the concerned looks and heavy stares of his colleagues. Because Dazai was fine. He didn't need their help or their worries. He was fine.

XXX

Mackerel: I'm bored

Slug: Yeah, so?

Mackerel: I'm really bored

Mackerel: Come over

Slug: I have work in a few hours

Mackerel: Please?

Slug: No

Mackerel: TT

Slug: Stop texting me

Mackerel: Come over

Mackerel: Hang out

Slug: Is there no one else you could ask?

Mackerel: Ehh

Mackerel: Not really

Mackerel: Kunikida, absolutely not

Mackerel: Atsushi and Kyouka, no

Mackerel: Kenji, no,

Mackerel: Ranpo, meh

Mackerel: Tachihara and Naomi, no

Slug: You should learn to be less of an a*s

Slug: It might help you get friends

Mackerel: Come over, please?

Slug: No

Slug: I told you to stop texting me

Mackerel: I'll give you a tip about your missing wine

Slug: Deal

About twenty minutes later, Chuuya showed up at Dazai's door.

"Chibi!" Dazai exclaimed.

Chuuya roughly brushed past Dazai to enter. He took off his coat and draped it over the arm of the living room couch.

He glanced at his phone screen-7:36-and groaned. He'd probably be stuck here for a while and would want to eat dinner before he had to do manage operations tonight. Unfortunately, Dazai was notoriously bad at making anything more complicated than eggs.

"I'm not eating anything you cook," Chuuya declared.

Dazai had closed the door and come into to living room while Chuuya was thinking. He held his palms up. "Okay, okay, hat rack. I'm a horrible cook and you'd prefer not to be within fifty feet of something I've made, I know." A vicious smirk curled onto his face. "But you have to admit my absence of skils is worth it for that time we switched that mafia representative's food with my version of it."

A similar smirk, although more crooked, appeared on Chuuya's face. "Okay...true. He almost cried. I swear I could see tears in his eyes. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing."

Dazai laughed. "I had to bite my tongue as well! The guy practically dove for his glass of water." He happily sighed and flopped onto the couch. "That was a great day."

Chuuya had already gone into the kitchen. He checked the cabinets and fridge for ingredients. They were mostly bare. But he managed to find two jars of tomato sauce and various noodles but mostly spaghetti. Along with two sets of silverware, a large spoon, a pot...And, five expensive bottles of wine?

"You did take them!" Chuuya furiously yelled. He stomped out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Dazai smirked. "You've gotten more nosy, Chibi," he nonchalantly noted. "How about we have one with the meal?"

"I can't believe I'm going to agree with that," Chuuya growled. He massaged the bridge of his nose. "I really need a drink," he muttered.

Dazai chuckled. He sprung up. "Okay," he chirped. "I'll grab the glasses... since they're on the top of the cabinets."

"Are you implying I can't reach them?" Chuuya irritably asked.

XXX

Chuuya left by 9:30, he had work after all.

Dazai stared at the floor and slowly made his way through the rest of the opened bottle. He had managed to win the argument that Chuuya should leave this one with him since the cost of dinner was borne by Dazai.

He hit the bottom of the bottle soon. The effects of the alcohol had long kicked in. It gave him a happy light feeling, as if he could start floating away at any second. Warmth spread through his body.

He didn't need to reconcile with Ango. He was fine, he told himself. He was fine.

A/N

Ango's and Dazai's relationship is interesting. In the times we've seen them interact, Ango seems to legitimately care. So Dazai just needs to let go of whatever is holding him back imo. They could be great friends once again. Except, as seen, Dazai is bad at life decisions.

As a juxtaposition to that relationship, Chuuya and Dazai are actually somewhat good friends. In the way siblings both hate and love each other. And for most, even when working together, there's constant ribbing and years old references to things.

Also, Chuuya and Fukuzawa weren't even supposed to be in this at all. But they decided to jump in and change what happened. Admittedly, that was more Chuuya than Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa just politely popped up to fill what his role should realistically be for a few paragraphs. Chuuya stomped in and inserted himself into the story.

PSA regarding this a story, please:

Don't refuse help when you need it.

Don't get drunk.

Don't use alcohol as a coping mechanism.

Don't refuse to let go of grudges for stupid reasons.

Don't not confide in at least one person. (Heck, write your problem down at least, if you don't want to tell someone. Then if you're paranoid burn it, tear it in pieces, or bury it (it will soon decompose).)

-Silver


End file.
